The sun was so dazzling that you were forced to lower your eyes. You all moved through a small town, a cozy village. Many terraced houses followed each other and switched to large and green gardens. Once it should be a small oasis. Nestled in nature, this quiet city had been devoured by the epidemic, the attack of the living dead. As things stood, it had already been looted. Joe did not even try to look at it. You crossed this fossil of civilization and reappeared in a clearing. You couldn't stand it anymore between trees, shrubs and other shit. You had spent over a year wandering through the forest. In a sense, you even missed Woodbury. Not the people you knew, not all, but your apartment. You had a bed, a bathroom, a dining room. You had a roof, a house... You were not worried and not always afraid of your life. You were safe. Instead, something told you that I you wouldn't find another equally quiet place. For example, the prison didn't take long to be destroyed. Everything seemed to fall apart, including you. Although your buddy had died after saying those radiant words of hope, you still wanted to believe it. You did not care how much you still lived, how much your legs had supported you, or how much your body resisted before collapsing for the hardships. You're still there, you repeated. Your good friend too, he is still there... And never would he have completely disappeared. It will seem strange, because you first knew him since a few weeks. But in today's reality are a few weeks, very long... They are a miracle. Every single day is a miracle. A miracle, in spite of everything. Yes, you live, but what else would you have to endure? And how long would you have to endure it? You couldn't know or imagine it. You were content to follow Daryl like a wounded animal, who seemed to be comfortable with these new group. You hadn't exchanged a single word in their presence. The scratches on Daryl had confirmed her thoughts, so Joe had knocked on his back as usual. The dry earth almost crumbled at your feet. You looked at her discouraged and identified with her. You were fragile and full of cracks... Yes, you were like this ground: Wounded, separated by long and deep furrows. Every other person would be desperate. Like when an object breaks and lies in a thousand pieces on the floor. You looked up and tried to think of something else, and behind the broad shoulders of Daryl you saw a few rails. When you arrived, you looked around. Finally no trees, these only served as frames. The rails were a good sign, they could take you to other urban centers, however rural they may be. Maybe you could meet another group of survivors. Maybe better than the last thing you had experienced. The men dispersed and examined the area. You understood that you would stop for a few minutes to refresh yourselves before continuing this exhausting manhunt. Joe split you into a pair with a simple wave of his hand and used Len as your partner. You looked at Daryl immediately and hoped he would protest. He was actually grumbling, but the leader preceded him.

"Calm down Daryl, Len will not touch her, he knows the rules.", Joe said. But you weren't so sure anyway. Daryl had explained to you that those who did not respect the rules had to face severe physical punishment, but Len was an idiot...

"Let's take a little break, if you see walkers, kill them. If you see animals, hunt them.", he said before leaving with Daryl.

Len spread his arms as though to invite you to follow him. You had the task to control the other side from which you had come and to re-enter nature. With the bow in his hand, Len walked in front of you, making sure not to make any noise because of animals. While you tried in vain not to stare at him, to think of something else, but ypur hatred for him grew more and more.

"What's wrong, bitch? You would have preferred to stay with that asshole with the crossbow, right?", he asked you: "I can see how you're looking at him."

"Don't you dare to berate me again, or else-..."

"Or else, what?", he interrupted you and laughed complacently: "Do you think the others are happy with what Joe said? You're our bitch, do not forget, you're us!"

He passed me you walked to the tracks. An uncontrollable urge to stab him intruded on you, forcing you to take a deep breath. You were not allowed to get angry, you were not allowed to kill him. You would only have made things worse.

"Your friend is back!", Len shouted suddenly.

You turned around desperately and noticed that Daryl was walking in your direction. The two met and patted each other on their shoulders.

"Did he...?", Daryl asked uncertainly.

"No, don't worry."

"I don't trust that damn bastard. Joe deliberately split 's up like that, he's testin' me.", Daryl told you.

"I think he understands and knows we know each other or that you've seen me somewhere... He's not stupid..."

He did not answer, but you understood that he too thought the same way.

"We're close to their prey, we've found some leftovers from chocolate bars, they follow the tracks, they wanna catch 'em 'fore they reach this place called Terminus.", Daryl said as he was about to cut a squirrel he had hunted.

Your face lit up. You approached the archer so you could look into his eyes.

"Terminus is a refuge, right?", you asked and he looked up.

"Doesn't matter. Ain't goin' there."

"For what reason, and how do you know about this place, did they tell you that?"

"There are signs 'long the rails, with a map. Joe said there ain't no room for us.", he murmured, and you couldn't believe he was so stubborn and narrow-minded.

"Do you believe him?"

He wiped his bloodied lips with the back of his hand and tossed the carcass to his feet, then dug his knife into a second squirrel.

"As ya' said, Joe isn't stupid."

You looked at him incredulously. It seemed too passive, as if he had given up.

"Daryl... If there are hints on the tracks, it's possible the others went straight there. Damn, I can not believe you don't want to go, they could be alive, you could see them again..."

But as soon as you finished the sentence, you realized that you had made him angry. You had to learn to calibrate your speeches, weighing every single word. Otherwise, you risked silencing him, followed by an attitude of unworthiness and hate. But in fact, without giving you a look, he threw the squirrel to you.

"They're all dead.", he said. "Eat."

The night came earlier than you thought. The day had passed quickly, as you had been relentlessly quiet. Daryl hadn't seen you and you had limited yourself to going in the company of these disgusting people. What Len had told you in the woods had alarmed you a little. Every few hundred yards, on either side of the rails, a sign appeared with a map attached to it. Terminus. In black, big and cubital. Safe area, it said, refuge for all. Maybe Daryl was right, maybe you were wrong to stick to the idea that the group could be there or that they were all still alive. But damn, you were alive and with you was also the archer. You did not want to digest the fact that others of you wouldn't have made it. You would've tried to convince Joe, and if you hadn't been successful, you would have shown Daryl that you were right. You would have gone alone to Terminus, you would have found them. Rick himself, careful as he was, would have decided to take a look at this place. Suddenly the snoring of others shook your sleep. You were exhausted, tired. You didn't want to sleep in their company, but now you could do little about it. An hour or two would have been short enough and better than nothing. Often you slept badly and tried to stay awake even in those moments of peace, but now that these men were snoring, it was impossible. So you tried not to make a noise. Carefully getting up, you slipped out of the hut you found near the tracks, hoping not to wake anyone. You sat on the steps of the front porch and watched the sky with your nose raised. This crystalline silence was interrupted by some noise from the forest. It had to be a walker... But you couldn't have killed him, the others weren't allowed to find out that you were armed. You had to hide to let this creature go its own way. So you clung to a tree near the hut and tried to climb a branch just above the roof of the hut. When you thought you were right above the roof, you tried to lower yourself, you slipped away and immediately you felt the emptiness, ready to fall on the hard ground, but something caught you and prevented the fall.

"So that's yer concept of not bein' noticed?," Daryl whispered.

You found yourself in his arms again, but this time it was necessary. If you had bounced, you would have made noise and woken everyone up. You loosened your grip and laid your feet gently on the roof.

"Now you're talking to me?", you protested, staring at your aching palms.

"Yer' only good at hurtin' yerself."

"And you're an asshole.", you added in a low voice and he sat up quickly.

"What did ya' say?"

"I said you are a very friendly man.", you answered ironically. He murmured something and reached for his knife to sharpen a piece of wood.

"What are you doing up here?", you asked after a while.

"Bein' alone."

"Me too, to be honest."

"Ya' got up without thinkin', without lookin' at who could be outside 'nd at night! As if that ain't enough, ya' want to get on the roof without even standin' on a damn branch! Do ya' find it funny to get yerself in trouble?"

You turned away a little spontaneously, as if appalled by his words. "Do you know what, Daryl? Just fuck you."

He despised you with a dirty look. He had no sense of humor, you had to give up. He did not want to talk, but you hoped to start a spontaneous dialogue just to understand the gist of it.

"As soon as we get rid of them, what are you going to do?", you asked worriedly.

"No idea."

It was really impossible not to get nervous with this man. But you weren't stupid, you felt very well how much he was suffering. He felt bad, but he had to remain the hero of the situation. He couldn't put aside the mask he had put on. He was the cold guy, the lonely one. But he wasn't as good as an actor. You thought of your previous companion, that night by the fireplace, when he asked you if you wanted to search for your group. And this time you asked the same question to Daryl.

"You miss your people, right?"

He stopped his obsessive actions. "Stop that!", he said. "Leave me alone!"

"Only if you stop behaving like you do not care about these people!"

He got up and kicked the piece of wood, which fell to the ground. Daryl angrily rubbed his neck before yelling at you, though he maintained a low tone.

"Then play the hero! Let yerself be killed too! Do ya' want to go to Terminus? Go alone, I ain't followin' ya', 'cause ya' don't know anythin' 'bout me, do ya' understand?"

You opened your lips to answer to protect yourself from such harsh words, but he kept talking to you.

"One more thin', Y/N! Do ya' really think anyone's interested in ya'? Do ya' really think if ya' should find Rick, if he should live, that he let's ya' live, after what ya' did?"

It was like a stab in the chest. It was like sprinkling salt into an open wound. It was painful... And your nails pushed against the roof and began to scratch it slowly.

"Do you think I do not feel guilty enough, Daryl Dixon? I know what I did and what I didn't do! I lied to you, it's true, but I did not help the Governor!", you explained in a trembling voice: "I don't know how Rick will behave if he's alive, but I feel the need to find them to make sure she's fine and I know that they live, even if you do not want to admit it! And if you feel better then spit out all that hate, move on, I don't care."

"Stop thinkin' ya' know me! And they're dead, stop kiddin' yerself!"

Courageously, you tried to be sure of yourself, not intimidated by his threatening behavior and brought your face even closer to his.

"Do you want to persuade me with this shit or yourself?"

"Shut the hell up!"

You stayed in this position a bit to hate each other with your eyes. He knelt beside you and you kept eye contact, ready to answer him if he added anything else. Then he went to the tree, ready to go down and finally to stay alone.

"If we get rid of 'em...", he started, insisting on answering an old question from yoh: "Then go 'nd fuck off! Look for dead people, I'll go to find my brother."

Instinctively you got up, tired of the fact that he didn't want to understand, tired of the fact that he wanted to continue with the scene, tired of the fact that he didn't want to be objective and face reality.

"Daryl, your brother is probably not near Woodbury anymore!"

"He didn't attack the prison 'nd that means he didn't return to the Governor, which means he can still live unlike the others!"

He clung to the branch and prepared to go down, and you could not help but spit out that bitter truth.

"Damn Daryl, your brother is dead...", you said, wiping a tear from your cheek before he was answering:

"I know..."